


broken heart syndrome

by spoopyy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, M/M, References to Illness, Sleepwalking, kind of, this one's gonna hurt folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopyy/pseuds/spoopyy
Summary: It’s scary, how his mind fills in the blanks for him. When he wakes up in the morning, he expects Ryan to be there, sleeping next to him, but he’s not. He texts Ryan something funny, a meme or a cat video, but halfway through typing he realizes that Ryan can’t respond to him. He’ll make food, expecting Ryan to come and eat with him, but he doesn’t.Grief is hard to deal with.He’s never believed in ghosts before, but he misses Ryan so much that he’s willing to believe they exist so that he can have Ryan back. It’s better than expecting Ryan to be there, only for nothing to happen. It’s better than coming home to an empty apartment, somewhere where Ryan can’t greet him. It’s better than going to bed alone, with no one to hold and no one to hold him.





	broken heart syndrome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkStainsOnMyHands](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/gifts).



> Hehehe I did the thing. 
> 
> I'm giving InkStainsOnMyHands 100% of the credit for this idea. Thanks for always crying about Unsolved with me!

“When I die, I’m gonna haunt the shit out of you,” Ryan says after a mouthful of soup. It’s one of the only things he can eat these days. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Shane responds, voice soft. He grasps Ryan’s hand - the one he’s not using to eat - and presses his lips to it. He holds on tight, afraid to let go. 

“I’m serious. Like, I’m gonna live in your attic and pace for hours just to annoy you. Hell, I’ll knock shit around and follow you throughout your day,” Ryan continues. He pushes his food away from himself. He can’t eat much anymore. 

“If you don’t scare me at least twice a day, I’ll never forgive you,” Shane says, voice laced with grief. It takes everything he has to hold his tears back, but they fall anyway. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” Ryan says, cupping Shane’s cheek. “I promise to haunt you until the day you die.” 

Shane chokes out a laugh, but it’s stuttered with tears. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

He doesn’t stop crying. Instead, he’s silent, taking in Ryan’s form. His hair, once black and lush, is now thin, giving him an odd appearance. His face, once full of life and joy, is gaunt; his eyes are sunken in, he’s paler than he’s ever been before, and his skin looks like gossamer strands against his skull. Everything else about him is brittle; the thinness of his fingers, the slimness of his ribcage, the frailness of once-there muscles….all gone, from an illness they can’t see, an illness doctors can’t cure. 

“Don’t be sad,” Ryan says, threading their fingers together. He, too, softens his voice. There’s no jokes now, not when he’s nearing the end, and Shane’s heart aches. “I’m serious. We’ll see each other again, one day.” 

Shane nods. “I love you,” he mutters, and Ryan cracks a smile. 

“I know. I love you too,” he says. Shane’s heart clenches painfully. He’s furiously crying right now, and the tears are blurring his vision. He wipes them away with his sleeve.

Ryan yawns tiredly and he looks at Shane with weary eyes. “I’ll see you soon, Shane. ‘M tired,” he says, snuggling into his pillow. 

Shane almost loses it; they don’t say goodbye, they never have, because goodbyes are permanent, they’re a promise that means,  _ I’ll never see you again  _ and that’s not something either of them can handle.

So Shane says, “See you soon,” and kisses Ryan on the forehead. 

Ryan doesn’t wake up. 

* * *

It’s scary, how his mind fills in the blanks for him. When he wakes up in the morning, he expects Ryan to be there, sleeping next to him, but he’s not. He texts Ryan something funny, a meme or a cat video, but halfway through typing he realizes that Ryan can’t respond to him. He’ll make food, expecting Ryan to come and eat with him, but he doesn’t. 

Grief is hard to deal with.

He’s never believed in ghosts before, but he misses Ryan so much that he’s willing to believe they exist so that he can have Ryan back. It’s better than expecting Ryan to be there, only for nothing to happen. It’s better than coming home to an empty apartment, somewhere where Ryan can’t greet him. It’s better than going to bed alone, with no one to hold and no one to hold him. 

Grief is driving him crazy. 

He starts noticing “signs” of Ryan, like the ones he promised on his deathbed. He hears a noise from above him one day, and thinks of Ryan pacing around in his musty old attic. 

Shane doesn’t have an attic. 

Another time, he thinks he feels someone following him, but there’s no one there. That one hurt more than Shane’s willing to admit to himself. 

He starts pretending that Ryan never died. It’s easier than accepting that he will never see the love of his life again. He knows it’s stupid, but it’s better than just moping around, missing something he can’t ever have back. Shane starts talking to the air; he talks about his day, what his plans are for the future, what movie he saw in theaters recently, and what he thinks about the newest television show.

He especially likes talking to Ryan before bed. It's cathartic and it makes him feel warm inside, like Ryan is actually there with him, listening to his problems like he used to, offering solutions and answers.

“I think I had an okay day today. I mean, it’s hard without you here, it always is, but there were free donuts at work this morning. I got to leave early too, because there was some kind of mix up with the schedule and the boss just sent everyone home.” Shane crawls into bed and takes a breath before continuing. “Oh, a new restaurant opened downtown. I would’ve taken you, but y’know, that’s not really possible. I think you would’ve liked it though.” Shane turns on his side so that he’s facing his dresser. There’s a framed picture of Ryan on there, smiling and candid. Shane reaches out to trace the frame, his heart heavy. “Goodnight, Ryan, I’ll talk to you later. See you soon.” 

Just as he’s about to shut his eyes, he hears knocking. It’s not a knocking like how someone would knock on a door, it’s a steady stream of knocking that doesn’t stop for an entire minute. 

Shane gets a rush of adrenaline, because, yeah, that’s kind of creepy. Still, could it be...?

Shane can’t help but smile. He hopes that Ryan can hear him, because the knocking continues. 

To assuage the pains in his heart, he knocks back, chuckling slightly. Ryan always kept his promises, and this time is no different. 

Still smiling, Shane closes his eyes. He feels a little better, knowing that, even if it’s his imagination, Ryan can make him feel better. 

_ Crash!  _

A loud noise erupts from his living room, and Shane bolts from his bed to investigate. He’s on high alert because he thinks someone is breaking in, and when he finally crosses the hallway, he finds his living room in shambles. All of the furniture is turned over, the knick knacks are trashed, and everything's a mess. 

Shane just about loses his mind at that point. 

Ryan promised to knock shit around, after all. 

That’s it, it has to be Ryan! There’s no other explanation, especially because he checks the locks on the door and they’re all untouched. 

He’s so excited that he doesn’t go back to sleep. No, he has to document this! No one is going to believe him anyways, so he might as well have some kind of proof. After ordering heat sensing cameras from Amazon, he starts Googling questions - things like ‘h ow to talk to ghosts’ and ‘how to bring back the dead’. He scours the internet for answers, eventually falling asleep on his arms. 

* * *

 

The cameras come a few days later and Shane sets them up around his apartment. He doesn’t think anything of it, until he checks the footage. 

It’s not Ryan who’s destroying his house. No, Shane can see himself sleepwalking from his bedroom to his living room. He’s obviously angry from the way his hands are clenched into fists at his side, and he lets his anger and bitterness consume him. He flips the couch over like a maniac, he tosses the coffee table on it’s side. He goes to the fireplace and tips all the knick knacks to the floor. Shane watches himself throw a ring to the floor also - one he would’ve given Ryan, had he lived. 

Shane doesn’t even recognize himself; he’s grief and anger and heartbreak and resentment bubbling to the surface, breaking everything in it’s path, smashing what little hope he has left in his heart, the hope he tries to give himself on a daily basis. 

Sleepwalking Shane carefully picks up a photograph. It’s of them at a theme park, right in front of their favorite ride. They’re smiling, their arms around each other. Shane delicately puts it back on the mantle; it’s the only thing he doesn’t destroy. Shane watches as his sleeping self goes back to bed. 

The longer he stares at the video, the more unreal it becomes. He can’t even begin to believe he’s capable of that kind of violence, of that show of brute strength. It would scare him, if he wasn’t already spooked by the sight of something he sees out of the corner of his eye. 

_ Ryan.  _

He pulls out his phone and orders a Ouija board on the spot. He can hear Ryan’s disapproval, but he chooses to ignore it for the time being. 

“I promise I’ll be careful, Ryan,” he says out loud. He adds pure salt to his order, along with candles and other things that will keep him safe, partly to appease his conscience and partly so that he does not attract anything he doesn’t want to. He wants to talk to Ryan, not any other meandering spirits. 

Once he places his order, he cleans his apartment for a second time, making sure to set up the cameras again. 

The Ouija board arrives a few days later, and Shane sets it up immediately. He sits on his floor, surrounded by candles and salt and his various safety objects. He does the necessary procedures to communicate with the spirit world, and once he feels ready, he starts asking questions. 

“Ryan, can you hear me?” he asks. 

The board answers yes. 

“Ryan, are you here in my apartment?” he asks. 

The board answers yes. 

“I promise I’m gonna bring you back, okay?” he says. 

Th e board says okay. 

The entire time he’s playing with the Ouija board, he can feel Ryan’s presence, almost like Ryan is on the other side of the board, moving the planchette. 

When he watches the footage back, however, his heart breaks a little bit; it’s very obvious he’s moving the planchette himself. 

He gives up, then. 

There’s no point in wasting time on someone when they aren’t going to come back. That little sliver of hope within him dies, extinguished by one too many failed attempts and his own “ghostings”. A part of him can’t believe he’s haunting himself and another part of him can’t believe that Ryan isn’t haunting him like he promised.  

Just as he goes to delete the footage, he realizes that one of his cameras has been taking pictures instead of video. Carefully, he looks through them, curious beyond belief. 

In one picture, he notices a shadow right behind him. In another, there’s that shadow again, but it’s incorporeal, just a black patch of light. It’s in every single photo, except for the last one. Here, he can clearly see Ryan’s face through a window, but it looks like Ryan is sad, like he’s trying to come in but can’t. He blinks a few times, just to make sure he’s not seeing things, like he’s not trapped in his head like he is when he sleeps. 

He’s not making it up; Ryan is there, in the photograph, one hand on the glass, looking wistfully inside. 

Shane starts leaving his window open after that, even at night. He knows deep in his bones that he’ll be okay if he does this, that no one is going to climb through and steal his belongings or kill him in his sleep.

He feels lighter, warmer than he’s felt since Ryan died. He feels at peace, like he’s accepted the fact that Ryan’s gone. It’s oddly freeing, in a way. 

He doesn’t let it get to him, because he knows that they’ll see each other eventually. After all, they never said goodbye, it’s always been  _ see you soon.  _

The warmth is there for a few days, then it’s gone. That’s when Shane knows; Ryan’s not there anymore. He’s moved on. 

For the first time, Shane does too. 

That’s not to say that Shane forgets about Ryan. No, he feels better knowing that isn’t stuck on Earth any longer, that he’s free. He’s glad for it and stops trying to bring Ryan back.   
  


* * *

Months pass, and Shane is doing a little better. He doesn’t tear apart his apartment anymore, and he doesn’t cry himself to sleep at night.

He does get dizzy, though. He starts feeling faint but thinks nothing of it, until one day, he collapses. Thankfully, he has enough strength left in him to call for an ambulance, and he wakes up safe and sound in a hospital, the same one where Ryan spent his last moments. 

“I’m sorry to inform you, Shane, but you have a condition known as  _ takotsubo cardiomyopathy,”  _ his doctor says. Shane furrows his brow; he only recognizes the root word cardio, meaning heart. The rest of it is foreign to him. 

“What does that mean?” he asks. He tries not to make eye contact with the doctor, who looks grave. 

“It’s a heart condition caused by intense bouts of grief, often times called broken heart syndrome,” his doctor says. “Usually, the damage to the heart is mild, but in your case, due to your sleeplessness, you’ve suffered from a mild heart attack. You’ve been ignoring your symptoms for too long, and coupled with all the asbestos you’re breathing in, the damage is permanent.” 

Shane is quiet. Damn those haunted places and their mildewy air! 

“How long do I have?” he asks, partly because he’s curious and partly because he wants to know how long he’ll have to wait to be reunited with Ryan. 

“I don’t give it much more than a year unless we can find a donor. That said, you have a tissue condition that will make the match difficult. I’m very sorry,” the doctor says.

Shane drives himself crazy again; he knows he’s going to die because the possibility of finding a donor in time is slim to none. He retreats back into himself, into his head, and he starts hallucinating wildly. 

Ryan is there with him, at the edge of his bed. He’s holding Shane’s hand like Shane had done so many months before. Each time Shane hallucinates, Ryan’s there, guiding his breathing, telling him it’s going to be okay. 

Ryan gets clearer and clearer each time Shane sees him. Shane feels dizzy and out of breath, like he knows he’s close to dying. And Ryan looks so real, like he’s actually there, like Shane can actually touch him and feel the warmth of Ryan’s hand. 

Ryan cradles his cheek, this time, just like old times. It’s the exact inverse of the way they were on Ryan’s deathbed, only Ryan is silent. He doesn’t say anything, just strokes Shane’s cheekbone lovingly, looking down at Shane like he’s the best thing in the entire world. 

It makes Shane tear up.

He’s crying and he can’t stop. His heart rate increases, and that prompts a nurse to come check on him. 

Ryan doesn’t leave, he just looks at Shane with that beautiful, soft smile of his that Shane misses so much. 

The nurse leaves when she deems Shane stable, and that’s when Ryan climbs into Shane’s hospital bed and cradles him.

He succumbs to his illness, passing away in Ryan’s arms. 

* * *

“Did ya miss me?” Ryan asks with his usual smile. Shane doesn’t know where he is, but he doesn’t care, because he’s with Ryan.

“Yes, of course I did,” Shane says. He can finally see Ryan clearly, and there’s no doubt in his mind this time; there’s nothing to play tricks on him here, no video cameras enlightening him to his own madness. 

“Good. I told you I would see you soon,” Ryan says, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss Shane. Shane kisses his back and holds him close, happy to be reunited with the love of his life. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr [here](https://brentbennett.tumblr.com)


End file.
